My mom loves to tell that story.

From my early teens and well into my married life I had this crazy near-sleepwalking routine of waking up at around 3 or 4 in the morning and just… eat cereal. Frosted Flakes, mostly. I loved the harsh crushing mouth action, the colder the milk the better. It was such a habit that often I wouldn’t even remember doing it, but in the morning the bowl would be there in the sink. To this day my brothers and sisters joke about the loud crunching coming from the kitchen at the wee hours of the morning.

The yogurt incident happened during the months I spent living at my grandma’s house. Yup: not even being a guest in another house would stop me from having loud, half-asleep late night cereal.

I don’t do that anymore. :/